


Be Mine (Sequel to When I’m Gone)

by Desparado



Series: April Song Challenge [28]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desparado/pseuds/Desparado
Summary: Here we go! Sequel to “When I’m Gone”… as hotly requested by a few on tumblr.If I told you what happens then that would ruin the fun wouldn’t it?April Writing Challenge Day 28 – Moira Clara (by Mia and the Moon) ((This band is amazing I highly recommend))
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: April Song Challenge [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740901
Kudos: 39





	Be Mine (Sequel to When I’m Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> I created myself a little writing challenge for April. The challenge is a new song each day (Thanks to shuffling my iTunes library) to inspire a fic of some kind. I’ll listen to the song a few times, and then plan like mad when the inspiration hits. 
> 
> Reader has gender neutral pronouns
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; graphic depictions of life-threatening injuries; Geralt is a hot mess

Triss spent the final daylight hours with help from the local healer desperately trying to save you. Geralt and Jaskier watched helplessly through the window from outside and witnessed them covered in your blood, herbs and cloths being thrown everywhere as your cries of pain rattled their bones. Geralt sunk to the floor and sat underneath the window, covering his head with his hands as he listened to Jaskier’s quiet prayers to gods, destiny, anyone who would listen. When the village was thrown into dusk, the door opened and Triss peered out, both men scrambled to their feet, “I’ve done all I can, we won’t know if it worked until morning.” She whispered.  
“Can I stay with them?” Jaskier asked, his eyes pleading.  
“No dear, the best thing you two can do for them now is get some rest. Just tell the innkeeper that you’re here for me and the rooms will be free.” She smiled at them both before slowly closing the door. Jaskier sighed heavily as Geralt turned and began walking away. “The inn isn’t that way!” The bard called. “I know.” Geralt murmured, ignoring the curses that he heard fall from Jaskier’s lips. 

Downing his fifth flask of ale like he hadn’t drunk in years, Geralt couldn’t shake the images of you from his head: Your hurt-filled eyes when he snapped at you on the hill; the terror he saw when the manticore attacked; and the fatalistic sorrow on your sullen complexion when you had resigned yourself to death. He could feel the tears in his eyes but no longer cared, too melancholic and drunk to consider anyone else in the room. All he cared about was you and how, in some twisted way, his nightmares had come true. Ah yes, the reason for this whole scenario, the dark and vivid nightmares that had begun to plague his dreams for the past week. Visions of you being killed, ripped apart by foul creatures, as he was too helpless to save you. He rummaged in his saddlebag for more coin when he pulled out a bar of soap- yours - the one that smelt of summer fields and picnics, the one he loved. He loved it because it reminded him of you, of your faultless smile and plucky attitude. He even loved your mischievous streak, but had been so wrapped up in fatigue and coming to terms with his newly discovered feelings that he forgot and shouted at you. Guilt buried itself in his chest and he stared at the empty flasks. If you didn’t wake up, he would never forgive himself; but if you did, he would vow to never let you leave his side again.

The witcher eventually retired to his room- only because the tavern closed- and couldn’t sleep. His nightmares were wilder than before, showing him images of your bloodied corpse, claw marks on your body and blood drops that led directly to him. He called out to you before looking down and seeing the scuffs on his hands and dried blood under his nails, the horror he felt was too real. That was when he was shaken awake, causing him to sit bolt upright in bed, clashing his head with something hard. “Ouch you bastard!” Jaskier’s voice called from the dark.  
“Jaskier, what are you doing?” Geralt grumbled, blinking hard to get clearer sight as he eagerly inspected his fingernails.  
“I could hear you thrashing about and shouting so I came to check on you, are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.” He stated, not looking in the bard’s direction. After a few moments of silence, Jaskier cleared his throat,  
“Right, well, back to trying to sleep I guess.” He got up and headed to the door, his light footsteps padding away from Geralt.  
“Jaskier?”  
“Yes?”  
“… Thank you.” He received no reply but heard the door open and softly close, leaving him once again to his feelings and fears.  
The sky blossomed into a burnt orange colour as the sun began its journey across the sky; the shadows slowly retreating under the trees and behind houses. Once it peaked over the horizon, the sun cast rays of light over meadows and onto the cobblestones below as well as onto the window that Geralt was observing from. “Y/n would love this.” He couldn’t help but silently tell himself, imagining you press your face against the window, listening out for the morning birds and identifying them by sound. Then he remembered where you were and his heart sank once more. Rubbing his face with his hands, he sharply inhaled and moved away from the window, grabbing his clothes and preparing himself for whatever destiny had in store.  
After retrieving Jaskier, both men strode over to the healer’s house, finding the old woman outside. She smiled at them as she opened the door, informing them that Triss was inside with you. They entered cautiously, both eagerly listening for any groans or whispers, but were only met with silence. “Triss?” Jaskier called, soon receiving a muffled reply that told them to come upstairs. The air smelt powerfully of sage and blood, with a hint of summer fields, making Geralt’s heart race. “Good morning gentlemen.” Triss greeted them with a small smile before continuing to tend to your wounds. “How’s y/n?” Geralt forced himself to say.  
“Honestly, I don’t know, but they’re heart is still beating if that helps.” She replied without looking over. After a few seconds she sighed and stepped away, giving the men a clear view of you lying in a small bed, arms resting over the covers with a cloth wrapped around the whole of your chest, the one on your head now gone. Your hair was matted and dishevelled, face contorted into a frown while your chest slowly rose and fell. Jaskier went to touch your arm but was pulled back by Triss, “Not yet dear, I’ve had to use several spells to try and help with the healing, they need to rest and allow the spells to work." He nodded understandingly at her before looking back at Geralt, whose gaze never left your face.  
“Thank you.” The witcher muttered before finally pulling his eyes away to look at Triss. She offered him a warm smile,  
“No problem. I really like them; they certainly do a good job of sorting you two out!” Jaskier chuckled as he sat by your side and Geralt hummed in agreement. Falling into silence, they both watched you, Jaskier praying for his partner in crime back, as Geralt prayed for the love of his life. 

You felt cold- abnormally cold- and tried to open your eyes but couldn’t seem to manage it. You could smell something foul and it wasn’t until a few moments later you recognised it as blood. Then you felt a bruise-like ache in your chest and the memories came back- Geralt shouting, the manticore, you telling Geralt you loved him… oh fuck. If you could facepalm yourself right now you would have. But in all honestly, you weren’t entirely sure what was going on with you, or where you were… had you died? Was this some weird afterlife where you’re locked inside your mind as punishment? Your ears picked up on distant shuffling followed by quiet humming by your side. The tune was familiar and then you realised the voice belonged to Jaskier, “Monsters dared crawl out from under their rock, hearing tales of Geralt and his massive… sword.” It was a little ballad you had both written one night whilst drunk and you felt yourself smile at the memory. “Upon the- oh gods they’re smiling! Y/n? Can you hear me?” Jaskier’s voice grew frantic with each word. You wanted to answer him but couldn’t open your mouth, instead you tried as hard as you could to flex your fingers, willing it to move even the slightest. He called your name again and you barely managed to bend your fingers, already feeling tired from the action. He must have seen it because you then felt a warm hand cover yours, “Oh y/n, I know you can hear me. Gods we’ve been so worried about you! Geralt? Geralt come quick!” Your heart fluttered at the mention of his name, more so when you heard footsteps thudding- presumedly- upstairs. “They’re awake, well they can hear me at least- I know it!” A shadow cast over your eyes followed by a cool hand on your forehead, “The spells are still lingering. I’ll go fetch something to help give them strength.” Triss’ voice came from your other side, as you felt her presence disappear. Jaskier’s hand remained on yours and he praised you with every movement you could muster in your fingers. It was getting harder with each movement- you could feel your body failing you much to your annoyance- when a potent scent of earth and spices filled your nostrils. “Breathe it in.” Triss urged. Reluctantly you took a deep breath, the smell hitting the back of your throat, making your groan- a croaked sound left your mouth and it shocked you. Then you took another breath, much deeper this time, trying to will the concoction to seep into your bones and wake you up. A minute went past before you could manage to flutter your eyes open, squinting at the harsh light from the window. “Welcome back, y/n!” Triss smiled at you. Jaskier’s face then came into view and you saw the tear stains on his cheeks.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked. You only managed to let out a grunt, the vibration grating against your throat and making you cough. Jaskier and Triss both helped you sit up so you didn’t choke, the sensitivity of your chest made you whimper. As the coughing eventually subsided, you looked up and your eyes met Geralt’s from where he stood at the foot of the bed. You were slowly laid back down, although now propped up by pillows and offered some water which you eagerly nodded for. Triss tipped the cup gently to your lips and you let the cool liquid slide down your throat, closing your eyes as you emptied the flask. “The perfect patient, even better than you Geralt!” She remarked. Flashing a small smile, you looked back at the witcher- who was now staring at the floor- then glanced over at Jaskier who was still by your side, hand on yours. He offered you a warm smile with tired eyes, chuckling when you winked at him to show you were okay. “Right, I think we all deserve some decent food do we not? I’ll head downstairs and prepare something.” Triss said as she packed some herbs away and walked to the top of the stairs. You looked over at Jaskier and nodded at him, he squinted at you initially but when you flicked your eyes to Geralt and back, he quickly understood and offered to help Triss, leaving you and Geralt alone. 

Watching him, he appeared panicked and unsure, refusing to look at you, then made his excuses and turned to leave as well, “Wait-” You managed to croak before another coughing fit took hold. Clutching your chest, you tried to control the airflow but struggled; that’s when you felt a gentle hand on your back, slowly rubbing up and down your spine. You could see where Geralt was crouched out of the corner of your eye, and you leaned towards his body, your head finding his chest, as you closed your eyes and breathed sharply through your nose to halt the spluttering. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter as he held you, “I’m sorry for being a miserable bastard and I’m sorry that I can’t bring myself to tell you how I really feel.” The last few words took you by surprise and you looked up at him as you managed to hold your cough in, your brows furrowed. “Everything I said before was a lie- I enjoy talking to you and I revel in your silly games. I’m so glad we met that day in Vergen and I don’t regret letting you come along.” His words filled your ears as you tried to decipher what he was saying. You scanned his face and was met by amber eyes that only seemed to shine for you. You offered him a smile to show you were listening and he placed a hand on your cheek, hitching a breath when you leaned into his palm. “You were right, I did miss you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you and I vowed that if you woke up then I would admit the truth.” He paused for breath and you continued your silent stare, raising an eyebrow as if to encourage him to continue. His thumb delicately stroked your cheek and he slowly breathed in, “The truth, y/n of Vergen, is that I love you. You have a way of making me feel complete- of making me feel human again- and I swear it’s all I’ll ever need. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you’d be mine, I’d dedicate every day to loving you and repaying you for all of the kindness and support you have ever shown me.” Your face blossomed into a smile and you lifted your hand to his face, stroking his forehead, cheekbones, lips and jaw. He closed his eyes at your touch, relishing the feel of your skin on his, before tilting his head when he felt you move towards his ear, “I was already yours.” You whispered as quietly as possible, thankfully not irritating your throat this time. You pulled away and saw him smile at you- a sight rarely seen on any given day- before leaning into him and placing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.


End file.
